nancy werlocks diary s02e13 Read Free

the cliché about Hell and good intentions.
    Eventually, residual energies were not enough and, in her obsession to extend her life, Chana Magus began siphoning all of the life force out of her victims. The College of Necromancy finally deemed the magic Forbidden and purged the entire school.
    But Chana Magus had escaped by jumping bodies using a ritual called Soul Jar. Through the centuries, she would take over the body of an unborn descendent of her bloodline and be reborn. And with each incarnation she grew more and more powerful. However, her plan hit a snag when Lord Advocate Joshua Brynwolf finally put all of the pieces together and arranged for her to be killed before she had a chance to jump bodies again.
    But what they didn’t know is that she had donated her eggs to her sister Ruth so she could have a baby. Vivika was reborn in Houston’s cousin/sister April and would have continued on with her stolen immortality had it not been for the fact that her host body succumbed to leukemia.
    For months, Houston and I had thought Vivika’s obsession with him settling down and starting a family was nothing more than obsessive mothering from beyond the grave. It was actually desperation. She wasn’t after a grandchild. She was after an empty shell to take over. Unlike most witches, psions pull their power from their own spiritual reservoirs. While they can learn to tap other sources of energy, it isn’t as easy for them. Because of this, they can’t naturally linger after death like Mom or Nanna. She needs a host body to stabilize herself. In the interim, she has been killing other witches and draining their lifeforce.
    Houston has barely spoken to anyone in the last two days. He and Eric took the train to New York City yesterday to blow off some steam. Eric said he spent the whole night just drinking and sulking. The few times he has spoken to me, he has been resolute in that he will see this through. “She has to die,” he says. His eyes look so cold when he says it.
    It hurts to see him like this. Ever since he first came into his powers, he’s managed to take everything in stride. Despite only really learning about the world of witches in April of this year, he’s adapted in his easygoing, snarky way. But finding out that everything his mother had told him was a lie; that she had been hiding in April the entire time; that she had tried to manipulate and abuse his trust for her own ends; that even now she has been killing other witches to prolong her own existence…I worry this might break him. And I won’t be able to put him back together.
    Sweet Rhea, mothers are supposed to protect their children. Not consume them. Watch over him in these final hours and give him the care his own mother never did.
     
    October 31 st ,
     
    “Why is Red Turtle here?” asks Vivika as she manifests near the ritual site I established by the cairn. The old man is sitting on a rock formation in a pair of weathered blue jeans and a flannel jacket, drinking a beer and petting the wolf sitting next to him. He nods to me in acknowledgement.
    “The cairn is his to protect, Vivika. As the Hierophant of this area, did you really think he was going to let a ritual like this go down and not be here to make sure the cairn is protected?”
    Red Turtle is a Leni Lenape shaman and guardian of the cairn, which is considered sacred by his tribe. Though he is not officially a member of any of the colleges, nobody questions his magical prowess or challenges his authority to protect the cairn. The last person that tried found himself living as a squirrel for a week as a lesson in humility.
    The Archmage doesn’t like to discuss it, from what I understand.
    He mutters something under his breath in Unami and shakes his head. “You will not consume more than is necessary to capture this fiend,” he says as he crosses his arms in front of him. “I will not allow it.”
    “You told him what we are doing?”
    “Vivika, I had to. Nobody conducts